If It Were Real
by timewalker05
Summary: WARNING: Spoilers for Knockout.  What if the unthinkable were true?  How would it affect those left behind?  A different take on the season finale.


**WARNING: Spoilers for "Knockout."**

IF IT WERE REAL

Kevin Ryan rapped his knuckles on the glass of the bar's front door. It was ten o'clock in the morning, so The Old Haunt wouldn't open for several more hours. He could see someone inside, however. There was an occasional flash as someone moved glasses from the bar to the overhead racks.

When all of five seconds passed with no response, Javier Esposito reached around his partner and pounded his fist on the door's wood frame. "Open up," he yelled. "NYPD."

Ryan cocked his head to look at him.

"What?" Esposito said.

"Nothing," Ryan replied as the door rattled.

A young man with tousled dark hair and bloodshot eyes opened the door a crack and peered around the edge. "Can… can I help you?" he asked.

"Where's Castle?" Esposito demanded.

"I don't…" the young man began.

"Listen…" Esposito barked.

Ryan put a hand on his partner's arm. "I'm Kevin Ryan," he said. "This is my partner, Javier Esposito. We're friends of Castle's. His mother, Martha, said he was here. In fact, she asked us to come over and check on him."

The young man looked back over his shoulder, sighed, and then opened the door. As Ryan and Esposito brushed past the young man, he said, "He's down in the basement."

Having investigated a murder here in the bar, as well as having spent many a night here with Castle, Kate Beckett and Captain Montgomery celebrating the successful conclusion to a case, Ryan and Esposito were familiar with bar's layout. The thought of those happier times deepened the scowls creeping across both of their faces. Ryan reached the office door first and tried the handle. It was locked. He knocked. "Castle!" he yelled. "It's Ryan and Esposito! Open up!"

They waited a few moments, Esposito scanning the bar behind them for threats out of long habit.

When there was no answer, Ryan knocked louder. "Castle! Open up!"

Still no answer.

Ryan started to reach inside his coat when Esposito muttered a curse, spun around, and planted his booted foot against the door just to the left of the doorknob. There was a loud 'crack' as the doorjamb splintered and the door banged open.

Ryan held up his lock-picks. "Really?" he asked.

Esposito shrugged. "Castle can afford it."

Ryan rolled his eyes. The stairway down into the office was dark, so he reached over and flipped on the light switch. He started down the steps, Esposito falling in two steps behind him, glancing occasionally over his shoulder as they descended.

Ryan was halfway down when he paused and wrinkled his nose. "God," he muttered. The smell emanating from below was a cross between the squad locker room and the aftermath of a bachelor party.

"Worse than we thought, bro," Esposito said.

They took a deep breath and continued down the stairs.

Rick Castle was sprawled across the top of the office's large wooden desk, surrounded by empty bottles of various bottles of scotch. Ryan shook his head. You could chart Castle's descent by the trail of empties. Pricier labels were arranged neatly in a corner of the desk, with progressively cheaper bottles growing more haphazard as they converged on the snoring Castle.

With a wariness ingrained through his years as a beat cop rousting bums in alleyways, Ryan poked Castle and stepped back. "Castle," he said. "Wake up."

Castle moaned, stirred slightly, then snorted and buried his head deeper into his folded arms.

Ryan poked him again. "Castle," he said, slightly louder. "Castle, get up."

Castle muttered something barely intelligible that sounded like a question regarding Ryan's parentage, moaned, and put an arm over his head.

Esposito shook his head, walked over to a small sink in the corner, and filled a plastic pitcher with water. Ryan looked over at him, shrugged, and stepped back out of the line of fire.

Esposito stepped over to the desk and poured the entire pitcher over Castle's head.

Castle jumped to his feet, sputtering and spitting water.

"What the hell?" he demanded, looking quickly from Esposito to Ryan and back.

"You look like shit," Esposito said blandly.

Castle blinked bleary, blood-shot eyes and rubbed at the multi-day growth of beard on his face. "Go away," he muttered. He was squinting like it was full daylight, not the subdued lighting of the basement office. He stumbled back to the desk and flopped into the chair. He picked up one of the bottles littering the desk and held it up to squint at it, shaking it to see if there was anything left in it. Seeing it was empty, he reached behind him without looking and dropped it in the general direction of the trash can. It hit the floor with a thud. He winced in apparent pain at the sound and screwed his eyes shut.

"Damn," he muttered.

He opened one eye a little and squinted at Ryan and Esposito. "You're still here?"

The two detectives just stood there, looking down at him.

Castle looked around the desk and spied a glass tumbler with a quarter-inch of amber liquid in the bottom and reached for it.

"No you don't," Ryan said, reaching over to snatch away the glass.

Castle scowled at him. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice a gravelly rumble.

"Your Mom called," Esposito said. "Alexis stopped by last night to bring you home and you wouldn't answer the door. They're worried about you."

"Well you can tell them you saw me and I'm fine," Castle said. "You can tell them I'm doing research for my next book about a drunken former writer. Another two or three years of research and I should be ready to start putting words on paper."

"C'mon, Castle," Ryan said. "This isn't you."

Castle glared at him. "Oh no, Detective Ryan, I assure you this is very much me. I am simply following in an old and distinguished literary tradition."

Esposito shook his head. "What would Beckett say if she saw you like this?"

Castle winced as if the words were a slap. Then, slowly, the pain on his face turned to a scowl. "What does it matter?" He looked past Esposito, his eyes unfocused and dead in a way Esposito recognized from his time in combat. "I tried to tell her," Castle whispered. "I tried to…" His voice trailed off and he angrily wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

Castle blinked twice and then looked at the two men. "Well, detectives. Unless you plan to arrest me for public drunkenness I suggest you let me get back to my research."

"Can't," Esposito said.

Castle's brow furrowed.

"We're not cops," Ryan said.

Castle swiped a hand through his hair and then rubbed the back of his neck. "What?" he asked.

Ryan shook his head, took Castle by the arm, and pulled him to his feet. "Not now," he said. "When we've sobered you up."

"But…" Castle started. "But…" Suddenly, his eyes went wide, he slapped a hand over his mouth, and he ran for the door to the small bathroom in the corner of the office.

* * *

><p>An hour and innumerable aspirin and cups of coffee later, Castle sat slumped in a booth in the bar, his hands pressed to either side of his head.<p>

"Okay, okay," he muttered. "I'm at least semi-coherent. Now tell me…" He waved his hands nebulous and grabbed his head again.

"We've got a new captain," Esposito said. "Bernie Grant. Real hard-ass. They transferred him over from the seventh."

"And they were happy to get rid of him," Ryan said.

"First thing he does," Esposito continued. "He pulls us off of Beckett's murder."

"Reassigned the case to Johnson and Alvarez," Ryan said.

Castle shook his head, indicating he didn't recognize the names, and winced a little when he did.

"Two of his pets he brought over from the seventh," Esposito. "Grant _said_ it was because we were too close to the case. We couldn't be objective."

"The real reason is because a cop killing is a high profile case and he wants his pets garnering the publicity," Ryan said.

"As if we give a damn about that," Esposito said. "Johnson and Alvarez couldn't find their ass if a snitch led them to it."

Ryan shook his head. "You're not being fair. They're not bad detectives."

"But they're not you guys," Castle said.

Ryan and Esposito both nodded.

"And they don't have the… incentive… that you have for solving the case," Castle continued.

More nods.

"But that doesn't explain…" Castle said.

"Well…" Ryan drawled. "My partner here didn't take it very well when Grant took us off the case."

Esposito growled slightly.

"Words were exchanged," Ryan continued. "And Javier here may have questioned the legitimacy of the Grant's birth and the species of his mother."

It was Castle's turn to nod.

"I turned in my badge and gun," Esposito said.

"By dropping it on Grant's head after you knocked him down," Ryan said.

Esposito shrugged. "Couldn't reach his desk, bro," he said to Ryan. "What with him bleeding all over the floor like that."

"_I_ put mine on his desk," Ryan countered.

"And stepped on him when you did," Esposito replied.

Ryan shrugged.

"So now what?" Castle asked.

"Now we find Beckett's killer," Ryan said.

"Without having to worry about all those legal niceties like warrants and due process and shit," Esposito said.

"But your jobs, your pensions," Castle said. "How will you survive?"

"I got a little saved up," Esposito said.

"And Jenny doesn't make much, but we'll get by," Ryan said.

Castle shook his head. "No. No. From now on you're working for me."

"Castle…" Ryan began.

"No arguments," Castle said. "I can't spend all the money I got for the Naked Heat movie rights anyway." He winced a little at the thought of Nikki Heat… and of his muse.

"It's not that," Ryan said. "Remember what you told Beckett. Everyone connected with this case is dead."

"And we plan on kicking a few hornet's nests," Esposito said.

"You_ need _me," Castle replied.

"I've gone without before," Esposito said. "So's Ryan."

"I'm not talking about the money," Castle said. "You two couldn't catch a geriatric jaywalker without my finely honed detective skills." There was the slightest twinkle in his eye. A hint of the old Castle.

"What about Alexis and your Mom?" Ryan asked.

"Alexis is going off to Stanford," Castle said. "Far away from all this. I've got some friends in L.A. who can keep an eye on her. I'll send Mom to my house in the Hamptons." He nodded to Ryan. "Jenny can go with her, if you want." He turned to Esposito. "We could send Lanie, too."

"As if that would ever happen," Esposito said. "She'd kick my ass."

"I'll talk to Jenny," Ryan said.

"So it's agreed," Castle said. "We take these bastards down, whoever they are. And we don't stop until it's done." He held out a hand, palm down.

Ryan slapped his hand on top of Castle's.

They both looked as Esposito. He rolled his eyes, but then slapped his hand on top of theirs.

"Right," Castle said. "First thing we need is a location for the batcave."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note: Yes, we all know that Beckett's not really dead. But it got me to thinking. What if she were? What would happen? So here's my answer.<em>


End file.
